


If This Dog Could Talk

by Aragarna



Category: White Collar
Genre: Episode Related, Fluff, Future Fic, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-18
Updated: 2016-05-18
Packaged: 2018-06-09 06:50:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 836
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6894460
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aragarna/pseuds/Aragarna
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Satchmo was the silent witness of a few things over the years...</p>
            </blockquote>





	If This Dog Could Talk

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the runthecon's challenge, with pipilj's prompt secret keeper. Many many thanks to the always awesome reve_silencieux for the brainstorming AND the beta.

Satchmo watched as Mozzie hurried Elizabeth out the door and settled in his basket for a quiet evening.  Elizabeth had said Peter wouldn’t be back until late, so Satchmo didn’t expect any company. If he had been younger, he would have taken the opportunity to explore the house, but now he was just looking forward to a quiet night. And maybe Peter would sneak him a little treat when he’d come back from work.

But to Satchmo’s surprise, just a few seconds after Elizabeth and Mozzie had left, the backyard door opened and Neal walked in. Satchmo raised his head and looked at the intruder. It was unusual for Neal to come from the backyard, but Neal was a friend, and Peter and El trusted him. Neal gave him a quick pat on the head and headed upstairs.

A little unsettled, Satchmo decided to follow him and found Neal in his master’s bedroom. Satchmo didn’t recall Neal going to this part of the house before. Even he rarely went – only when there was thunder at night and, scared, he would look for comfort in Peter and El’s presence. Otherwise they had made it clear that this room was off limits to him.

“Don’t look at me like that,” Neal said.

He clearly sounded guilty. He was probably up to no good. Something that would make Peter angry. Satchmo didn’t like that he was in their bedroom, and he stayed on the threshold until Neal walked out.

Neal rushed back downstairs and he was gone before Satchmo had time to reach the living room. At least, he was gone now. Satchmo settled back comfortably in his basket and rested his head on his paws. It wasn’t long until his eyes closed.

Neal could have at least given him a treat. How rude of him.

\---------------------------------------

Satchmo was sound asleep when Peter’s eruption down the stairs woke him up. It was rather unusual for him to come down so late these days. He hadn’t been working those long extra hours as he used to since the baby was born. He was carrying a huge box which he put on the coffee table. He sat on the sofa and started shuffling through it.

Satchmo slowly got up from his basket and trotted to his master. He sniffed the objects that Peter was taking out of the box, laying them on the table. The smell they emitted was one that Satchmo hadn’t smelled in a long time. They smelled of Neal – the original grown-up one, not the baby.

Satchmo moaned softly and Peter patted him on the head. “I miss him too, buddy,” he whispered.

Peter took out a key and looked at it a long time. “Son of a…” Peter breathed between his teeth.

Satchmo slid his head on his master’s lap. Peter finally took his eyes off of the key and slowly looked down at Satchmo. He had a strange look on his face and Satchmo wasn’t sure how to interpret it.

“Don’t say anything to Mom. Not just yet. But I think Neal is alive,” Peter said finally, his eyes sparkling in the dark. He sounded happy.

Satchmo wiggled his tail with excitement. Would he be seeing Neal again?

\---------------------------------------

  
“Be nice, you two,” Peter said to his son and dog, as he took Elizabeth by the waist and they headed outside.

“Yes, Dad,” Neal said with a large grin.

Satchmo raised his ears. That kid was clearly up to no good, which his mother must have been suspecting, given the long stare she gave him.

“Neal,” she said sternly.

“I promise, Mom!”

“You keep an eye on him, Satch,” Peter told the dog.

Satchmo wiggled his tail.

Little Neal ran to the window to watch them leave. Satchmo listened as the car started and then faded in the distance. Once he was sure they were gone, Neal ran to the kitchen, pushed a chair against the countertop and started climbing. Satchmo watched as the kid stood up on the countertop, opened a cupboard and grabbed something on the highest shelf.

Satchmo didn’t like when Neal did this. It was dangerous. But, once again, the kid managed to get down safely. He brandished his loot in front of Satchmo’s nose, a large smile spread over his face. It was a big plastic box full of cookies. Satchmo didn’t approve the method, but he did like the cookies. He licked his chops with excitement.

“Come on, Satch,” Neal called as he ran upstairs.

Satchmo followed him – much more slowly – to his room. He sat down next to Neal, who was crouched in the middle of the room.

Neal opened the box and took out two cookies. He put one in his mouth and the other one in his palm so that Satchmo would grab it safely. Satchmo took his cookie and laid down next to Neal, while the kid started playing with his miniature humans and cars.

Evenings when his masters were out were a lot more fun with Neal.


End file.
